


we went in circles somewhere else

by sadieblodgett



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Olympics, Alternate Universe - Skating, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Like... real slow, Slow Burn, insp by virtuemoir im trash thx, like decades slow, strap in these kids r dumb and in love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-22 11:23:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13763076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadieblodgett/pseuds/sadieblodgett
Summary: Clarke is eight and her knee is bleeding when she first meets Bellamy Blake."Really, her? Can she even skate?" He doesn't even match her gaze, focusing instead on the blood dripping from her skin to the ice.-Clarke and Bellamy have skated together for 20 years. They've been everything to each other since childhood, from enemies to partners to whatever it is they are now. World champions on the ice, complete messes everywhere else.





	we went in circles somewhere else

_2006_

 

Clarke is eight and her knee is bleeding when she first meets Bellamy Blake.

"Really, _her_? Can she even skate?"

He doesn't even match her gaze, focusing instead on the blood dripping from her skin to the ice.

Clarke's eyes narrow and it's all she can do not to skate right over and push him off of his own wobbly blades. She scrambles to her feet, her fingers still attempting to hold her torn tights together.

"Can I skate? I've been skating since I was three. I'm the most medaled girl in my age group. My mom is a two-time Olympian and my coach. I think the real question here is, can  _you_  skate?"

To demonstrate her superior skill, she literally skates circles around him. Or she would have if her mother hadn't stepped out in front of her, blocking her path.

"Don't antagonize your new partner, Clarke. The only way this thing is going to work is if the two of you get along."

Bellamy smirks at her from behind Abby's back. Clarke snarls. Abby sighs.

 

_2009_

 

Bellamy is twelve when they perform together for the first time and is just finishing up vomiting into a public toilet. He stumbles out of the stall and towards the sink.

Wiping his mouth, he looks up at his reflection, where he's instantly blinded by the sparkle of his costume. Sequins and beads fill almost every available inch of cloth, from his neck to his ankles.

His mother had been so excited at the opportunity to make their outfits. She’d spent the entire evening with him, sewing and chatting, and  _laughing._ She’d even read to him before bed (Edith Hamilton’s Mythology, his favorite at the moment). It’d been so long since he’d seen this much of his mother and he hadn’t wanted to ruin it over a few too many sequins. He's regretting that now. Octavia’s hysterical laughter when she’d seen him earlier hadn’t helped.

The only thing that makes him feel slightly better is knowing that Clarke is somewhere in this building wearing something very similar. When he'd first given her the horrific thing, he hadn't known whether she was more likely to rip him or the costume to shreds. Instead she’d just grumbled a thank you and stomped off with it crumpled in her tiny little fists.

They’d been training together for two years now, and he still isn’t sure of her. It’s odd, seeing someone every day,  _holding_  someone every day, and barely knowing anything about each other. He's never even held another girl's hand. Except his sister, but she doesn't count.

Their first year had been a disaster, with Clarke purposely tripping them up whenever possible and stomping away as soon as they got off the ice. By the time they’d built up to hand holding and the basic lifts, Bellamy knew three whole things about her: she likes ice skating, she doesn’t have a dad, and her mom is their coach. That’s it.

In their second year together, things began to come together for the first time. During the months leading up to the competition, something shifted in Clarke. It was like she'd flipped a switch and suddenly she wanted to try. Soon, they started landing all of their jumps. Every spin in sync. Neither of them had gone home with a bloody knee or a bruise in weeks. Somehow, along the way, they got really good. Now, they're regularly out-skating every other pair in the rink, including some of the older kids. Even Abby’s favorite couple, the sixteen-year olds Lincoln and Anya, refuse to skate with them. Although that may have more to do with their personalities than their skating abilities.

While Clarke had stopped being openly hostile towards him, she definitely hasn’t with everyone else. She tends to favor the younger kids or any newbies, but she shows no mercy to any of the big kids, especially not the ones who think they’re better than her.

Everyone calls her the Ice Princess, a meaner variation of his own nickname for her, but he can’t say he minds. With Clarke as his partner, no one dares to get in their way.

He’d never tell her that, of course.

He’s feeling a little less grateful now though, when she bursts through the bathroom door right as he's emptying his stomach into the sink.

“Gross!”

“You’re in the boy’s bathroom, this could’ve been a whole lot worse.” He’s proud of his ability to form a comeback, especially with vomit on his breath and sequins on his shirt.

She ignores him, now leaning against the wall beside the urinals.

“What are you  _doing_?”

“Puking, Sherlock. Want to join?”

“I know you’re... puking,” she says the word with an exaggerated look of disgust. “But why?”

“Maybe I was thinking about your face.”

She stares at him through the mirror as he rinses the last of lunch down the drain, unamused.

“Why are you even in here? In case you haven’t noticed, you’re a girl. At least I hope so.”

Her eyes roll up into her head, highlighted in some kind of sparkly makeup that rivals his costume in obnoxiousness.

“Fine, don’t tell me. See you out there. Try not to puke during the program!”

He almost lets her leave. And then.

“It’s my first time doing this in front of real people,” he blurts. He’s too scared of everyone else to be scared of Clarke.

When she turns back to him, her eyes are soft, and he thinks that he’s surprised the coldness out of her. Then she snorts.

“We’ve been skating in front of real people for two years, including my mom, a national celebrity. She should make you more scared than anyone in this building.”

 “And she does. But. My mom and sister are here.”

Her face lights up and he’s suddenly very afraid.

“And when were you going to introduce me?”

“Never, if I can help it.”

“Wow, thanks.”

 “I just- they’re not a part of this.” He makes a vague sort of gesture between the two of them. “I don’t want to mess it up for us and I’m nervous and what if my family thinks this is stupid and I’m wearing _sequins.”_

 Clarke laughs and grabs his hand. He thinks it might be the first time that they’ve ever held hands off of the ice.

“They won’t think this is stupid, I promise. We’re the best here, Bellamy, no one’s like us. Not even close. And honestly, you pull the sequins off better than I do.”

Bellamy doesn’t stay anything. Instead he lets her lead him by his hand out of the bathroom and doesn’t let go until opening positions. They get first place. From the podium, he can see Octavia's smile and his mother’s tears.

_2006 (a couple of hours later)_

 

Clarke peeks out the little window beside the door.  _Finally._ There he is, sitting on the curb and staring out into the empty parking lot. She’d spent the better half of the last hour looking for him and that somehow makes her even more irritated with him.

She silently slips through the door and creeps right up behind him. The slam of her bag on the concrete scares him enough that he leaps up off of the curb.

Clarke tries really hard not to take too much pride in the expression on his face.

“What do you want?”

“My mom told me I had to apologize for earlier.”

“Where’s the apology then?”

“Sorry.”

“Touching.”

“Okay, how’s this? I’m so very sorry-” she catches the beginning of a smirk on his stupid face and changes her mind.

“-Sorry that I can skate better than you.”

He eyes the two Scooby Doo band aids decorating her knee.

“Sure, princess. It’s fine, you can just tell your mom that I forgive you or whatever. I’m not going to be around for it to matter.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? You’re not bailing because of this- “ She lifts her knee up so high that she wobbles on her remaining foot. “Because I _am_ a good skater. You won’t find a better partner.”

“Oh, so _now_ you want a partner? Wouldn’t you be better off solo if you’re so good?”

“I don’t want a partner, I just don’t want you to forget what you’re giving up on.”

“Trust me, I get it.”

“So then why are you quitting? I know you’re a jerk, but I didn’t think you were chicken. Guess I’ll just go tell my mom to find me a better partner, one that isn’t too afraid to skate with me.”

“I’m not- Whatever, I don’t need to explain myself to you.” He promptly sits back down, facing away with her with his arms crossed. For the first time, she feels like they’re the same age.

She joins him on the ground.

“Just tell me.” She pokes his shoulder. “I’m not going to leave you alone until you do.”

“Tell me why you don’t want a partner first.”

“Fine,” she focuses all of her attention down towards the smiling face of the cartoon dog on her knee. There's still a bit of dried blood around it.

“My old partner’s name was Wells. He was my best friend in the whole world, which my mom didn’t really like because friends don’t make a good skating team, but he was my best friend anyways. A couple months ago, he and his mom got into a really bad car accident. She died and Wells lost his leg. I was going to wait for him to get better, but then his dad ruined everything and moved them to America. And now my mom wants me to move on and find someone else but I don't want to replace him.”

 “So you’re going to make everyone your mom brings quit?”

“It’s working so far. Your turn. Why are you quitting?”

“I just don’t want to do it anymore. I joined because I was good, and I liked being good. But I can’t do it forever, I need to get a job in a couple of years and there’s no time for both. And I need to help my mom and my sister, I can’t do that if I’m always practicing.”

“You can help them! First place winners usually get prize money, and then there’s championships when we’re older, and then the Olympics. We’ll probably get to be in cereal commercials and everything.”

“We?”

“Yeah, well maybe Wells wouldn’t mind me skating with you too much. And my mom is just going to find someone more annoying if you quit.”

A beaten-up van screeches up in front of them.

Bellamy stands up, throws his bag into the back seat and bounds over to the passenger door. Before he climbs in, he pauses and turns back to her.

“See you at practice, Princess. Tomorrow morning at eight, right?” And then he’s gone.

**Author's Note:**

> next up: 2012, aka longer chapters, high school shenanigans, new buds, and Sexual Tension
> 
> shoutout to tessa virtue and scott moir!! thx for turning me into a trash person & congrats on the gold pls love each other!!


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